


Salvation

by katherynmae



Category: Wentworth (TV)
Genre: Angst, F/F
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-06-23
Updated: 2017-06-22
Packaged: 2018-11-17 13:48:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,994
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11276559
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/katherynmae/pseuds/katherynmae
Summary: After discovering Joan and Franky’s disappearance, Vera leaves work rattled. But that only proves to be the beginning of her evening’s adventures.Spoilers for the ending of 5x12, obviously.





	Salvation

_I wish I had a story I could share_  
_All I want is to be clear_  
_I'll take a breath and start again_  
_I see salvation in the air_  
  
\- Salvation, Enter the Haggis/Jubilee Riots

\- - -

The evening air felt damp and reaching up to brush the back of her hand over her forehead, Vera Bennett let out a long exhale as she turned her car out of the Wentworth Correctional Centre’s staff parking lot. Before now, when she had held her position as Governor, she knew she would still be holed up in her office at this hour, torn between being impatient to return home or wanting to dedicate herself to her job a little longer. But with a suddenly empty house once more, she was torn between dreading the silence at home and feeling the weight on her shoulders shift. 

Leaving while the rest of the officers were still trying to piece together how both Franky and Joan had managed to escape undetected weighed on Vera more than she wanted to admit. While she was powerless now, a part of her still called herself “their Governor” in her heart. She knew that her guilt toward some of her prisoners weighed on her more than others and she swallowed the lump in her throat as one name drifted to the surface once again. _Joan_.

Ever since Joan Ferguson had been sentenced to her charge, Vera had never truly been able to shake the image of Joan Ferguson, her Governor and mentor. Even in her weakness, when Vera had crouched over her not even a week before, determined to give her a second chance at life, Vera had seen her as the formidable woman who she had first known. She had known that Joan had always seen something special in her, and Vera cherished that memory deeply. 

Now, Vera let out a long sigh and she shifted to turn on the air conditioning in the car, hoping the sound of _something_ would distract her from her thoughts. But there was a part of her that seemed to call her to keep driving. She wanted to run home, bury herself in the safety of her blankets to try to forget about the day’s events, and hide until the next morning, but she knew forgetting them wouldn’t be easy. Vera didn’t know why Joan Ferguson’s life suddenly being in danger seemed to strike fear into her heart once more, but she swallowed the lump in her throat, turning her car away from the direction of her home. 

Vera didn’t know where her wheels were taking her, she seems to drive almost mindlessly through the unfamiliar streets and the low hum of the air conditioning echoed in the back of her mind. The roads were unfamiliar and a flicker of regret sparked within Vera as she squinted at the roads ahead of her. She fiddled with the steering wheel as she slowed to a crawl, staring to find a place to pull off to the side of the road. Her phone lay on the seat beside her and she skidded off to the side of the road, feeling a flash of panic in her stomach. 

Shutting off the engine, Vera kicked open the car door and leaned to bury her head in her hands, inhaling the sharp, crisp air. Her hands shook as she took another shuddering breath and she wasn’t sure when during the drive she had pulled her hair free of its traditional bun. Standing, she grabbed her phone and keys in her hand, standing beside her car, and she gave herself another small shake. The road she was on was quiet, almost empty aside from where she could see traces of tire skids along the dark gravel. Taking a few quiet steps, Vera stared around at the land in front of her, unsure of where to go next.

Stepping over the forest floor, Vera internally remarked to herself that a walk along the road to clear her head was downright ridiculous, especially in her attire. Leaves crunched under her feet and she scanned her surroundings, the silence echoing around her. She didn’t know where she was and she fidgeted with her phone, unsure if she should look up the fastest way home. But something compelled her to keep going through the evening air. 

Vera was no more than five minutes into her walk when she paused, almost as if she could feel someone nearby, and she nearly skidded over the leaves in her path. Her glaze flittered back and forth through the trees, as if expecting someone to jump out at her and her all-too-recent memory of Turk breaking into her home made her shudder. Taking another step, she exhaled, kicking at the leaves as she paused, staring around the trees. She stopped her scan, feeling something between fear and anger tighten in her chest and she kicked at the ground once again. Unsure of what she saw, Vera squinted in the trees at where she thought she could see the faintest flash of light among the leaves. 

Curiosity got the better of her, it always seemed to in the end, and Vera took a step toward the odd light. She knew she should turn back, but the light only seemed to get brighter as she moved closer and she swallowed, her chest tightening even more as she spotted a flash of color in the mix of brush. Pausing, her mind raced and she shook her head at herself, choking back a worried greeting before craning her neck at the shadowy area. 

“ _Help_.” The small voice sounded like gravel and Vera nearly jumped, having thought she was alone. Her eyes went wild and she gripped her phone tighter, as if expecting the worst. She hadn’t seen anyone around her and she scanned the forest, waiting for someone to step out and meet her gaze. “Help _me_.” This time, she stopped, and she felt her heart drop into her stomach. 

“ _Joan_?” Vera would recognize her voice anywhere and she balled her hands into tight fists, feeling her nails dig into her palms. _It couldn’t be_. Her mind was playing tricks on her and Vera shook her head as she stared around, eyes wide. “Wh…what is _happening_?” Stumbling over the leaves, she strained to listen, hoping for another sound and she skidded across the leaves, letting her feet guide her toward the sound of Joan’s voice. “Where are you?” 

There was no answer this time, but Vera seemed to skid across the leaves toward the light, which she now recognized as a reflection, her breath quickening with each step. “ _Joan_.” Exhaling, she stopped after a moment, her eyes wide as she stared at the sight in front of her, and her stomach twisted once more. Joan’s usual pristine teal tracksuit was nearly stained brown from the forest earth and the piles of dirt beside an unusually deep hole in the ground made Vera shudder. “Are you all right?” Ignoring the fact that she’d dirty her work outfit, Vera dropped to her knees, searching for the faintest trace of recognition in Joan’s eyes, and she moved to brush her fingers hesitantly against the cotton tracksuit.

As she took in the sight before her slowly once again, Vera visibly shuddered, noticing how red and swollen the rope burns on Joan’s neck looked. She longed to reach out and brush her fingers over the torn skin of her neck or brush her fingers over the dirt that stained the tea tracksuit, and she swallowed the lump in her throat. “Here.” Settling on a light brush on the shoulder, Vera shifted uncomfortably on the forest floor to inch closer to Joan’s side, “Can you stand?” 

Letting out a dry, strained cough at Vera’s question, Joan turned her gaze on her and it seemed for a moment that she wasn’t the broken woman that Vera suddenly was laying her eyes on. “Do I look injured?” The question was just as ridiculous as Vera’s previous ones and Joan gave another dry cough, her eyes hollow as she stared at where Vera’s small hand still rested on her shoulder. “What are you doing here?” 

It was a question that Vera couldn’t answer and she shifted, leaves skittering under her feet as she turned her gaze to meet Joan’s eyes. “You’re here.” Her reply was flat, unfeeling, and it lacked the relief of someone who had just found someone as dear to her as Joan Ferguson alive in the middle of a forest, “You know you’ll have to return to the prison eventually.” 

“Ah, I thought you’d mention that Vera.” Joan’s voice sounded surprisingly stronger now that Vera was by her side and she shifted against the smaller woman’s frame. “I suppose I’m still a prisoner, aren’t I?” She paused, as if choosing her next words carefully and she shook her head, her voice soft once more, “You may have a complex about you that makes you determined to save _everyone_ , even the murderers, but you’ll still uphold the law.” In a flash, she almost hated the fact that Vera _fucking_ Bennett, of all people, had found her, but Joan was determined to keep that weakness hidden a little while longer. 

“You need medical attention.” Now Vera was running her fingers along the streaks of dirt on Joan’s arm, the faintest particles fluttering to the ground between them, “But if I do that then you’ll be taken into custody for sure.” Her voice was hesitant and she stared to where she could see the shadow of her red Mazda alongside the street, “You need to _heal_ Joan. You’ll be killed if I bring you back.” The minute she spoke those words, she cursed under her breath, unsure if revealing her worst fear had been the wisest idea at the moment. “Let me bring you home … to _my_ home.” 

Grey eyes went wide and Vera felt her stomach shift uneasily, as if her suggestion might frighten Joan off. Reaching out once more, Vera brushed her fingers over the back of Joan’s hand, feeling her flinch back at the skin contact. “You could use … a meal.” The list of what Vera _knew_ that Joan needed was too great, but she settled on supper. Supper was casual, easy … no bounds for anything more than an hour or so of awkward and strained conversations before retreating back into their shells. “Let’s go.” 

Scrambling to her feet, her small heels skidding under her, Vera stared at Joan’s face, hoping that her actions weren’t scaring the older woman off. She knew she had to be careful when it came to her relationship with Joan from the start, she had always had the tendency to overthink how deep their connection had been, and she bit the inside of her cheek as she stretched out a hand. “You can lay in the back seat if you want.” The comment was light, just enough to recognize that she knew Joan needed _someone_ to be there for her, and she offered a hand as Joan struggled clumsily to her feet. 

The image of Joan Ferguson, crumpled and tried on the forest floor sent another round of shockwaves through Vera as she curled her small hands tightly around Joan’s arm. She had thought she had seen the worst of it and she shuddered visibly as Joan seemed to sag into her weight. “You can do this.” Her tone was light and she hoped her tone was encouraging, and Vera tightened her grip on Joan’s arm, “I have a blanket in my car.” Exhaustion seemed to sweep over Joan even more at the mention of a blanket and Vera ground her teeth together as Joan’s weight shifted on her side. Their steps were clumsy, between Joan’s exhaustion and Vera’s unsteady footwear, and the younger woman fumbled with her car keys as they leaned against the small vehicle, eager to return home and let her night begin.

**Author's Note:**

> This is only planned on being a two-part fic, possibly three. But if I get inspired, maybe I might consider developing it into something more.
> 
> You can leave feedback here or tweet me @antonskatie - I welcome ideas, comments, anything.


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